Sharpshooter CSI: Miami
by Elena George
Summary: CSI: Miami - Ambush on the way to annual rifle quals.
1. Ch 1

Disclaimer:  This is solely for the enjoyment of the readership.  There is no intent to infringe on characters owned by CBS.

Sharpshooter

Calleigh was pacing back and forth with an air of anticipation.  It was that time of year again – rifle quals.  What made it even better was this year both she and Horatio were paired up.  Finally, not only did she get to be with the man she admired most, but she also got to be with one of the few shooters who could keep pace with her.  Calleigh had a solid streak of competitiveness lodged deep in her soul.

"What is keeping him," she wondered quietly to herself.

As soon as her mind had uttered those words, Horatio turned around the corner with two brand new shooting jackets in hand.  Calleigh broke out in a delighted, wide grin that Horatio returned with ease.

"One for you, my dear," he began as he helped her into the long sleeves.  "And one for me," he commented as he slung his over his shoulder.

Calleigh adjusted the sleeves and buttoned it up snuggly.

"How did you ever get these?  And one that fits me!" she giggled.

"I'm magic," he laughed, then he continued, "I ordered yours last year once I saw what they had gotten for you.  It looked like something out of the trash pile at an old military reservation.  I have to admit, I was embarrassed that the supply guys would do that to you," he blushed just a little.

Calleigh just beamed and turned around as if modeling a beautiful new party dress for him, "All I can say is thank you so much.  I can't tell you how many times I've gone to the range in one that never even came close.  This is a thrill!"

She reached over and took his hand.  Horatio felt her radiance melt him inside before he snapped back into his usual cool observer mode.

"I've got the ammo and weapons ready to sign for.  You ready," Calleigh offered, still holding his hand.

Horatio nodded, "Let's go then."

A quick trip past the Armory got them two government issue M-16 A-1 rifles, six magazines, four ammo pouches, and one can of 7.63 mm ammunition.  Calleigh gave the weapons the once over to check for basic operability.  Everything sounded, looked, and smelled right to her trained senses.  Horatio was logging out all the gear as she completed her LTI of the weapons.

"Got a speed loader in the box?" Calleigh asked the technician behind the glass.

"Yep, Detective, it's in there.  You're ready to rock and roll.  Have fun y'all!  Just remember, what you shoot, you clean.  See ya in a few hours," Chester smiled their way.

Calleigh slung the rifle over her shoulder and gathered up the clips, pouches, and belts.  Horatio did the same with his rifle, grabbing the ammo can.

"Off to the see Wizard…shoot!" he gleefully played with Calleigh who gave him a warm, approving smile.

She packed the rifles in the back of the Hummer as Horatio removed some of the individual boxes of rounds.  Those he placed on the front seat for Calleigh to load as they headed down the road.  The rest of the can went behind his seat.  Sure enough, there was the grey metal speed loader, just as Chester had said.  Once the gear was stowed, Calleigh hopped up into the passenger seat and began to unpack the rounds.  She placed one magazine at a time in between her knees and slid the rounds off their mini-racks along the guides of the speed loader.  Horatio moved the vehicle out of the garage and onto the city street.

"All this Christmas in November, I just don't know what to do with myself," she teased and continued, "Horatio, how many rounds do you want in each clip to start with?"

"Dunno.  How tight are the springs?"

"They feel new," she picked the clip up to her nose, "And they smell new."  She gave him a giddy smile, "Looks like we got all new stuff today!"

"Glad you approve," he returned.  "Pack 'em on in there, then."

Within ten minutes all six magazines were loaded and repacked into their pouches.  The pouches were mounted with care onto the belts.  Each pouch was large enough for three clips, but Calleigh preferred to put two which left room for anxious fingers to extract one clip more rapidly than if they were jammed in like sardines.  It was a small but potentially significant tactical advantage.

"How much wiggle room you want on your belt?" she asked Horatio.

"I prefer them snug, thanks."

"Me, too," she took a very careful look at Horatio, then announced, "You're about a 34 waist?"

"Close enough," he replied, glancing at her, as they pulled up to the stoplight.

Calleigh made the adjustments to the belts and tucked Horatio's behind his seat while hers dropped to the floor by her feet.  She pushed it as far forward as she could.  The rifle range was on the other side of town, heading toward the Keys.  It was out in the boonies, buggy boonies.  Calleigh absentmindedly fiddled with her hair trying to figure out what would do best for the day's activities.

She had been looking in the visor mirror when all hell broke loose ahead of them.  What seemed to be a herd of men came piling out of a storefront.  Automatic weapons fire spit out of their guns just as it chased after them.

Horatio curbed the Hummer quickly, "Get down, Calleigh!"

He reached for the radio for backup and made the call.

Calleigh was not one to shrink from what she perceived to be her duty.  She reached behind the seat and pulled up the two rifles and Horatio's ammo belt.

Horatio yelled at the suspects, "Miami PD.  Put your weapons down!"

That got the guaranteed result of rounds fired off in their general directions.  It was well-known, as a general rule, that criminals can't shoot straight, a fact that Horatio understood.  He held his ground and returned fire with his pistol.  Calleigh had made her way down the side and joined him, partially shielded by the vehicle's bulk.  She slipped the first magazine in, pulled the charging handle, and gave it a tap.  Horatio's M-16 was ready to fire.

"Horatio, single shot, here!" Calleigh shoved the rifle into his hands.

Calleigh's finger slid down her weapon until it found the selector switch.  Her shooting stance for the off hand was perfect in form.  All she lacked was time to adjust the sling; however, she improvised by tucking her left hand under and up, passing through the sling to give her added stability.  She smoothly shifted from single shot to burst.  She put half a clip down range over their heads, which served as a reminder to the gangbangers that they may have bitten off more than they could chew.  Both Horatio and Calleigh could hear sirens off in the distance, hoping that was back up.

Then the rule failed!  Horatio pitched backward, rifle flying forward, clattering to the ground.  In Calleigh's recollection he fell in slow motion to the pavement.  Neither of them would ever remember hearing that shot.

"No!" she screamed and ducked down to see how badly Horatio was hit.

His head was reeling from the shock of it, from the pain of it, from the suddenness of blood loss.  He had managed to keep his head up and avoided slamming it into the pavement.  Still, his shoulder was on fire, and Horatio writhed and groaned on the ground.

"I'm okay.  I'm okay," he kept telling Calleigh.

Hearing his voice snapped her back into situational awareness.  With the ferocity of a mother lioness, she straddled her downed partner and fired back.  This time she switched to the single shot mode.

Her first round found its way to the center of the nearest perp.  He was jolted back but only a little.  He laughed as he charged her.

"Body armor, okay.  Going to go the hard way, are we?" Calleigh muttered.

The next round dropped him like a stone.  She practically took out the left half of his head.  One by one, Calleigh drilled their heads in what is affectionately known as the no twitch zone until their leader had the presence of mind to realize that he was indeed outgunned.  He was the first to "lay it down."

As he tossed out his weapon and assumed the position, four cars of Miami's finest arrived from two different directions.  Those cops began to corral the living perps.  One placed a call that Calleigh could hear coming over the radio for paramedics and multiple ambulances.

Calleigh leaned her weapon on the side of the Hummer and raced to the emergency first aid box in the way-back.  It sat next to their CSI collection gear in a similar flat metal box.

Horatio was still on the ground, although he was no longer moving around much.  Calleigh tore open his shirt and slapped on a wad of gauze to try and stop the bleeding.  His shoulder was spurting blood to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

More sirens.  This time it was the first of the ambulances.

"Over here," Calleigh called out.  "Officer down!"

The paramedics raced to her position and found her applying pressure to Horatio's bloody shoulder.

"Got a bleeder!" one said.  "Forget our gurney.  Get the chopper over here, stat!  Let's get him outta here!"

Calleigh heard the extra urgency in his voice.  She also heard Horatio calling her name softly to himself.

Speed was the next CSI team member to arrive on scene.  He looked around and shook his head.  He reached for his radio and called for Alexx.  Calleigh had been quite thorough and far deadlier than the criminals had been.  She had sent four of the dead seven gangsters to their graves.  He could hear the sound of the medivac chopper as it came in for a landing in the intersection.

"Tim!  Tim!" he heard her call for him.  "Over here!  Horatio's been shot."

Speed picked up his pace as he headed toward the Hummer.  He found Calleigh still leaning over her friend, mentor, and boss.  Horatio looked much worse for the wear.  His face was pale and sweaty.  The paramedics had cut open the sleeve of his shirt and had begun an IV.

"Here, you get these back.  I'm going to the hospital with him," Calleigh directed, as she thrust both rifles and the keys to the Hummer into Tim's hands.

She jumped into the chopper as they lifted off with Horatio's now limp body to Jackson Memorial.  The door shut securely behind her.

Calleigh remembered at that exact moment just how much she hated flying.  Her head began to spin, shortly thereafter, it was her stomach telling her this may not have been the brightest idea she'd had recently.  Instead of throwing up, she took Horatio's hand and held on for dear life – for both of them.  Horatio was completely incoherent, but he could feel the presence of the one woman he trusted most in life.  In his mind, he held on to her just as tightly.


	2. Ch 2

Disclaimer:  This is solely for the enjoyment of the readership.  There is no intent to infringe on characters owned by CBS.

Rating:  PG

Sharpshooter – 2

The chopper blades had been swinging slowly through the air as Horatio had been loaded into the air ambulance.  The paramedic turned over his patient to the care of an emergency doc and her nurse.  Calleigh had slipped in just before the door rolled shut.

The nurse looked up with mild surprise at the presence of the detective.  Calleigh smiled as if she knew what she was doing.  The prop wash began to kick up a dust cloud out of the gutters of the city street.  Calleigh could see the officers shielding their eyes and bending the suspects over to afford them modest protection from the sand and dirt as it flew in swirls a few feet above the ground.  The prop spun ever more quickly, and the chopper defied gravity and lifted slowly away from the pavement.  It went straight upward, and then rotated back toward the center of town.  That is when Calleigh realized this trip was not going to be any fun at all.

The physician kept a close eye on Horatio as she cut away the remainder of his shirt.  She started a second IV in his other arm, placed heart monitor patches on his chest, and checked the O2 flow to the mask that covered his nose and mouth.  Calleigh kept her eyes on Horatio as well.  However, the nurse noticed that Calleigh was not doing too well.  He reached into a small drawer in the side of the cabinet.  He pulled out a patch and stuck it on her neck just behind her ear.

"Here, this will help," he told Calleigh over the engine noise that filtered into the compartment.  "Motion sickness is no fun!  And I don't want you puking in my ambulance either," he joked with her now.

"Thank you," Calleigh called back, ever the proper Southern lady.  Then she wondered out loud, "How'd you know?"

The nurse gave a rough laugh, "The odd shade of green you're turning."

Calleigh offered only a weak, polite smile as she refocused on Horatio's motionless form that lay before her.  Within fifteen minutes, they had traveled the same distance that she and Horatio had traveled in forty-five minutes earlier in the day.  The view of the skyline was imposing and dizzying from this vantage point.  There was also a measure of comfort in seeing it as they approached from the south.  Calleigh could not hear the cockpit conversation since she was not wearing the flight helmets that the crew used.  Still she knew that they were close to the hospital.

Much to her horror, the chopper turned suddenly on its axis again, orienting itself into the prevailing winds.  A lesser wave of nausea flooded her senses.  She reached out to steady herself against the side bulkhead.

"You know, I think this thing," pointing to the patch, "Is working.  Thank you again!" she offered the nurse.

He smiled at Calleigh, "Usually does."  He continued, "Don't worry about your friend here, he'll be okay.  If they get off the chopper alive, these guys downstairs are pretty good at keeping them that way."

Calleigh nodded and smiled.  She could not wait to get back on the ground again.  The chopper eased down onto the flight deck atop the building.  It gently rocked back and forth one last time as the blades decreased in speed.  Calleigh could see another crew of hospital staff waiting for them with a gurney for Horatio.  The chopper touched down and the wave of discomfort was replaced by bit of fear.  The door slid open and the crew hustled their gurney out and transferred their patient to the hospital's.  Calleigh was the last one out and trailed well behind Horatio.  An orderly stopped long enough to hold the door open for her as she heard the chopper's blade begin to pick up speed for the next life flight.

The gurney and attending medical staff along with Calleigh descended the elevator into the ER.  Calleigh could hear the cacophony of miserable people in both the ER and the Waiting Room just outside those doors.  She followed along as they went through a maze of corridors.  At last the gurney came to a stop against the wall where the bottled O2 was swapped out for the hospital's supply.  Again, they moved Horatio's motionless body onto the ER bed.  A large man in teal scrubs looked at Calleigh who smiled back up at him.

"Leave, young lady," he commanded her.

She hesitated before saying to Horatio, "I'll be here when you wake up," she stroked his lower leg hoping that her touch would encourage him to fight.  "Don't you give up on me; I won't give up on you."

"Nice sentiment, but go, now!" the doctor repeated his command.

Calleigh looked up at him one more time, turned on her heels and replied, "I was just leaving."

The desk clerk called out to her, so she wheeled around sending a wave of nausea back across her being.

After Calleigh recomposed herself, "Yes, can I help you?"

"I hope so.  I'd like to get your friend into the computer.  Can you help me out?"

"Sure.  Let me try," Calleigh offered as an orderly brought her a paper bag with the remnants of Horatio's clothes and personal effects.

Calleigh pulled out his wallet from the mix of cloth and blood.  She found it hard to keep her tears under control.  God forbid that she, the model of the strong Southern woman, cry in front of a perfect stranger.  Upon finding the wallet, the rest of the bag dropped quietly to the floor at her feet.  She began to ruffle through the contents of the wallet, hunting for the group insurance card.

"Here.  This is Horatio's insurance card.  It should have all you need on it," Calleigh said in a hushed tone.

The clerk was delighted, "Perfect!" she exclaimed as she began putting his data into the computer.  "Is he going to want to be on the hospital register?"

Calleigh was turned back around facing the area where Horatio lay, "Yeah, that'll be fine, I guess."  She turned back, "Where's the Ladies Room, please?"

The clerk glanced up and pointed down the hall.

"Thanks.  I'll be right back."

Calleigh struggled to the restroom.  She flicked on the light quickly.  She dropped Horatio's wallet as she leaned over the sink and threw up.  The combination of horrendous event plus the ride in the chopper finally overcame her abilities to keep it all in check.  Once the offending breakfast came out, she felt marginally better.  Sweat beaded across her forehead and neck as she leaned against the door trying her best to remain in an upright position.  Tears slid uncontrolled down her cheeks.  Calleigh kept her breathing measured and even as she could.  Finally, she drew in one tremendous heaving sigh.  Her head stopped pounding and swirling as she sank to the floor in absolute dejection.  Quite by accident, her hand found the wallet.  She picked it up again and began to look through it.  On the one hand, she felt as if she was violating her friend, and yet on the other hand, she wanted to know more about this man who had literally just moved her to tears.  She wiped her eyes so she could discern its contents more reliably.

The wallet contained few truly personal items.  There were a few credit cards, his driver's license, his photo ID for the department, and about $30 in cash.  At the very back were the three photos that he kept with him.  Calleigh paused as she looked into the eyes of each person.  The first photo was of Horatio, Ray, and Yelena on Ray's graduation from the Academy.  It was all smiles as she expected.  She'd met Ray once or twice.  What she knew of Ray was purely speculative, rumour, and gossip.  Her feminine intuition had told her that there was something sad about Ray, but she never was able to put her finger on it.

The next photo was of Horatio and Ray, Jr.  Ray, Jr. was dressed in a Little League uniform.  There was some kind of trophy he was proudly displaying for all to see.  Calleigh smiled as she ran her fingers across the faces and trophy.

She murmured, "So you do have a soft heart after all.  I knew you did; you just don't show it very often…"  Her voice trailed off as she turned to the next photo.

It stunned her.  Calleigh could not remember exactly when this photo had been taken.  It was of her…at a party.  She vaguely remembered the party.  It was shortly after she'd arrived in Miami.  She forced herself to recall that it was somebody's going away party.  She had been completely unaware of Horatio with a camera in his hands.  She assumed that it had been he who took this photo since she could not see him anywhere in the picture itself.  Slowly, she closed the wallet and held it just a little closer to her chest.

"Dear Lord, Horatio, is this how you feel about me?  Am I family to you?" she whispered softly.


	3. Ch 3

Disclaimer:  This is solely for the enjoyment of the readership.  There is no intent to infringe on characters owned by CBS.

Rating:  PG

Sharpshooter – 3

Even as Calleigh was struggling with queasiness and her own raw emotions, Horatio was struggling, too.  He could hear what was going on around him.  He heard Calleigh get chased away.  It made him angry.  If only he could tell the doctor how much it meant to keep Calleigh nearby.  With all his might he tried to let out a groan, a grunt, something.  He was disappointed when his body failed him at just the moment he needed to add his part to the conversation.  But Calleigh was gone now.  He heard her say that she'd be there though.  It meant she was not far away.  She was near; he knew it in his heart that she'd never be far away.

The nurse sliced through his belt and one leg of his trousers.  Then, the scissors were brought to bear on the other leg.  The clothes were slid out from under the patient.  He heard his trousers and shoes hitting the floor.  He heard the rustle of a paper bag, like all the ones he'd used as evidence.  Surely they'd give his stuff to Calleigh; she was just around the corner.  The snap of a sheet – Horatio could hear it being cast across his body.

Horatio could hear the doctor ordering that his blood be drawn for – "_how many units did he think I'd need?_" His head was reeling from the frenetic activity all around him.  With his eyes shut tightly, it was so hard to keep up with who was where and doing what.  His investigative skills were being put to a severe test right at that moment.  X-Rays were ordered to locate the bullet or fragments.

Horatio began to drift off, and as he did; he caught himself back at the shootout.  What had happened back there?  He was going to have to do a better job of remembering.  He had reports to write when he got to his desk.  Okay, it would not be tomorrow, but by the next day.  "_Yes, the next day, I'll be back at work,_" he mused through the haze of blood loss and narcotics.

"_Let's see.  We were heading to the rifle range,_" he began to himself.  "_Ah, it was so nice to see her smile.  I never knew that the right size would make her so happy.  I should have done this last year._"

An endotrachea tube was pulled out of a drawer on the orders of the attending physician.  Horatio felt none of the activity as the nurse shoved the tube roughly down his throat.

"Got it, doctor.  Good sounds," the nurse reported as she made sure it went down his trachea and not his esophagus.

"Shoot the series and process, stat!" ordered the doctor.

Mentally he flinched at the sound of the word – shoot.  He could hear the nurse clinking with something over in a cabinet to his left.

"You want two units hung now?"

"Yep."

Horatio could hear more sounds that made him think that he might be in more trouble than he first reckoned on.  Where was Calleigh?  He needed Calleigh.  He thought he could hear her voice every now and again, but he needed to be reassured that she was there.

He was very aware of the sound of wet X-rays being slapped against the light box.  Then it got very quiet – no medical chatter, no Calleigh, just a hush of the air filling his lungs.  Horatio intended to draw in a deep breath.  As he sucked in air, he was made aware of the sharp pain that sliced from the outside corner of his left shoulder through his chest and down to his gut.  He wanted to cry out, but that tube was in the way!

"Okay, send him to prep," the doctor ordered.  "Find that woman who came in with him.  Let her know he's off to the OR."

X-rays were snapped down and placed in a folder that was dropped across Horatio for the ride upstairs.

"Yes sir," was the reply.

"_Calleigh!_" Horatio thought as loudly as he could.  His whole person cried out for her at that moment.  "_I need you, Calleigh!_"

He could hear the brakes being taken off and the wheels of the gurney on which he rested clatter along the tile floor.  All he had left was sound to guide him.

The gurney stopped clattering, and an elevator door opened before him, beckoning him to ride.

"_The person pushing the gurney could say something,_" he thought to himself.  "_But I bet he does not realize that I'm really here.  I must be in worse shape than I thought back there.  I wish I could just talk to Calleigh, let her know how I feel.  Oh God, my wallet.  She's got my wallet.  She'll find the photo I keep.  How am I going to explain that away?  Oh God, help me!_"

The OR doors parted with a soft hiss as the gurney continued to make its way to the theatre.  Again, Horatio was transferred.  His arms were spread out and IVs ran in both.  He could hear the snap of gloves and what sounded like cloth being tied up in knots.  Metal on metal greeted his ears, too.  Then he heard another little hiss, and there was no more listening to be done.  Horatio lost what little consciousness he had remaining.

The surgeon took a good long look at the X-rays that had ridden up on Horatio's lap.

"Looks like there are a whole bunch of fragments all scattered around in there.  I'm afraid that one may be sitting on the brachial artery, too," he commented as he took one look at his patient's vitals before ordering the first instrument.

"He's under, Charlie.  Your turn now!" teased the anesthetist.

"Let's do it, then.  The sooner we get the blood vessels repaired the better.  Scalpel," he began.

Back in the ER Calleigh came out of the restroom.  She had thrown some water on her face to wash away the last traces of her earlier losses of control.  The coolness had felt pretty good.  She tucked Horatio's wallet into the pocket of her shooting jacket.

She looked down at the jacket, formerly new and now covered in Horatio's blood from when she had rendered him first aid a short time ago.  It seemed an eternity ago when she "modeled" it for him.  He had gone to great lengths to get this jacket for her, too.  The budget was quite constrained as new security concerns shuffled money from one pot to another.  They all had orders not to ask for anything that was not absolutely essential.  A new shooting jacket for an extra-small sharpshooter seemed like such an extravagance to her at this moment.  Yet for all that, she cherished that jacket and the wallet with its secrets it now held.

One of the staff, who had been working on Horatio, found her wandering around the clerk's desk.  The clerk had finished with Horatio's insurance card and returned it to Calleigh.

"Hey, didn't you come in with that cop that got shot?" he wanted to know.

"Yeah, that'd be me," Calleigh confirmed.

"They just took him to surgery.  He'll be in the OR for hours.  The bullet was in several pieces, according to the X-rays.  You might want to wait up there in that Waiting Room.  This one is pretty messy," he tried to make her feel better.  "Hey, if you want, I can take that bloody jacket and get you something clean?"

"No," she snapped.  Her vehemence surprised herself.  "_Where did that come from, I wonder,_" she thought.  Taking a deep breath, Calleigh smiled as best she could, "I'm sorry.  It's been a bit of a rough day."

The nurse just smiled knowingly, "You can wait upstairs or the Chapel is down the hall and around the corner from here."

"Thanks for understanding," was all Calleigh could offer as she headed out the door.

She reached for her cell phone only to realize it was in the front seat of the Hummer.  Horatio's was in the Hummer, too, in his coat pocket, slung across the back seat.  Fat lot of good those did her now.  She looked up in time to see Eric Delko.

Wordlessly, Eric just embraced her and held her as tightly as he dared.  After a moment or two, he led his friend to the Chapel where it was blessedly quiet.  They just sat in the pew for half an hour.  Calleigh leaned into Eric's shoulder for comfort.  Eric knew how to be quiet.  He also felt terrible about what had happened to his boss.  He looked up to "H" like a second Dad, although he could never tell Horatio that.  It would be…too sissy, and Eric was no sissy.  Then he broke the silence.

"What happened, Calleigh?  What went down out there?  I thought you and 'H' were going to the range for annual qualifications?"

Calleigh looked up and nodded.

"I don't know.  Well, I'm not really sure what happened."  
  
"What do you think happened?"

"You really should not be asking me that," she dropped into her detective mode.  "I'm going to have to go before a shooting review board," she heaved again.

Eric fell silent again and cradled Calleigh in his arms.  He hated to see her hurt; she was like a big sister to him.  For that matter, the whole team was family in many ways.  It took an incident like this to drive it home and remind everyone of that fact.  They were family, a family whose head now lay on a bench in the operating room, maybe fighting for his life.  Neither Eric nor Calleigh knew.  Neither did Horatio, for that matter.

Cop shootings were a little different.  There was not much banter back and forth among the surgeons or those assisting them.  They went about their jobs methodically and carefully.  Plink, plink, was the sound that bullet fragments made as they hit the pan.  Suction, irrigate, more suction, clamp were about the only actual words uttered.  In all, the surgeon dug ten fragments out of Horatio's shoulder and upper chest.  He repaired the brachial artery, which had indeed been nicked.  As he closed, the OR tech started the eleventh unit of whole blood.  The colour had yet to return to Horatio's ruddy complexion.  Even then, Horatio was beginning to hear things around him again.

He heard somebody hand the bullet fragments to a tech to take to the officers downstairs.

"_Good,_" he thought.  "_Evidence…_"  Then he mused again, "_Like Calleigh did not see the whole damn thing herself!  Wonder how many she took down after I got hit?_" he wondered.  "_Hey, I think I'm going to be okay,_" he assured himself.  "_If I can worry about evidence and think about Calleigh, I'm going to make it._"

Then the horrible thought of Calleigh finding her picture in his wallet jarred his senses.  How would he get out of that one, he wondered.


	4. Ch 4

Disclaimer:  This is solely for the enjoyment of the readership.  There is no intent to infringe on characters owned by CBS.

Rating:  PG

Sharpshooter – 4

After an hour or so in the quiet of the Chapel, Calleigh noted, "Maybe it's time to move this party upstairs to the Waiting Room outside the OR."

"Sure, Calleigh, just give me five minutes, okay?" Eric requested.  "Alone…"

"Can do.  I'll get us some coffee and meet you outside the chapel door," she returned.

"Thanks," Eric reassured her.

After Calleigh had let the door close quietly behind her, Eric got down on his knees, pulled out his rosary, and began to pray in earnest.

Calleigh pulled out Horatio's wallet since hers was in the Hummer.  She stuffed the receipt inside as a reminder to put money back in just as soon as she could.  Before returning the wallet to the pocket on her jacket, she looked at the photos one more time.

Eric rejoined her, and together they headed upstairs to the Waiting Room.

"Have you heard from Tim?" Calleigh wanted to know.

"Can't use a cell phone in the hospital," Eric reminded her.  "I left it in the car when I came in.  Cuts down on temptation, you know," he smiled down at her.

She nodded, "I wonder what's going on in there?"

Eric led her to a pair of chairs that happened to be together.  As the leading trauma center in South Florida, Jackson Memorial was always packed with gunshot victims, car crashes, and burn patients.  The Waiting Rooms were always full.  At least the one for OR was a bit tamer than the ER Waiting Room.

"I guess we just wait," he began, "And that is not my strongest character trait."

"Patience is a virtue," Calleigh spoke softly, "I just can't do it right now."

Eric hugged her gently.

A surgeon came in, or at least the room lit up as if it were a surgeon.  He called out someone else's name.  That family rose and followed him out to a smaller room nearby.  Calleigh and Eric would just have to wait their turn.

Calleigh had been at the hospital for four and a half hours when a man dressed in scrubs came out saying, "Kelly?  Is there a Kelly here?"

"Do you suppose he means me?" she asked Eric.

"What have we got to lose?  I don't see anybody else jumping up, do you?" Eric offered.

Calleigh rose, taking Eric's hand to bring him along.

"I'm Calleigh.  I'm here for Horatio Caine.  Do you mean me?" she inquired.

He looked down at his chart to verify, "Yes.  Can you come with me, please?"

Calleigh looked apprehensively at Eric who returned her concern.

They were ushered into a small conference room.

"ER said you came in with Lieutenant Caine earlier.  Are you his next of kin?" he wanted to know.

"Not exactly," Calleigh began.  "I don't really know who Horatio has listed as his next of kin.  Do you, Eric?" she looked over at him.

"Beats me," Eric commented, "But we're all family anyhow," he added defensively.

The doctor looked at them, flipped through a few more pages of chart.  He sighed before beginning.  Calleigh squeezed Eric's hand tightly.

"Okay.  I can't find anything here that says otherwise.  So let me tell you what we did in there," the surgeon started.  "As you know, he was suffering from a gunshot wound to the upper left quadrant," he motioned to the general area on a graphic.

"I pulled fragments of probably two bullets out.  That was the easy part.  One had cut the brachial artery.  That was the time consuming part.  By the way, whoever applied the first bandage with pressure may have saved his life," he continued.

Calleigh looked relieved and began to breathe again.

"We've already transferred custody of the fragments to the crime lab folks," he went on.

Eric looked down at Calleigh and patted his front pocket, "We are the crime lab folks, and so I've got them for analysis."

The doctor smiled before finishing.

"I repaired the artery and checked for other blood vessel damage.  So far, so good.  When we closed, there were no leaks.  For the next few hours, that's our main concern.  Tomorrow will have a whole new set of concerns."

"When can I see him?" Calleigh needed to know.

"Tomorrow, I guess," the doctor answered.

"Can I see him now?  I really need to see him now.  Please…" she pled with him.

Shaking his head, "He's in Recovery.  From there we'll put him in the Unit, that's ICU.  I don't know how long before he's in a room," he concluded.

"Please, may I see him now?" Calleigh implored once more.

The doctor looked at her, saw the blood stains on the jacket.

"You were there when he was shot?" the physician wanted to know.

Calleigh nodded as her eyes began to fill with tears again.  She could not stop them this time.  The surgeon drew in a deep breath.

"Come with me, then," he offered.

Calleigh addressed Eric, "You stay here, okay?"

Eric agreed.  He was not entirely sure he wanted to see Horatio just now.

A nurse greeted them at the desk for the Recovery Room.  All the beds were full; the monitors chirped and buzzed; the smell of clean pervaded the area.  Calleigh's eyes moved quickly in search of Horatio.

"Can you take off that jacket, please," she said as she offered Calleigh a surgical smock.

Calleigh relinquished the shooting jacket in favour of the clean garment.  She donned a mask, still looking for him.  The nurse led her to the far end where Calleigh's heart immediately found its way to the middle of her throat.  She paused for just a moment, enough to make the nurse turn around and look at her.

"I'm fine.  I'm fine.  The last time I saw him was the ER.  He looks better now," she said weakly.

Calleigh stood at Horatio's right side.  A plain sheet covered the lower half of his body.  A PIC line had taken the place of all the previous IVs.  Whole blood and antibiotics all ran into this one line.  Scanning the monitors over his head, she could see that his pulse was elevated while his pressure was down.  He had begun to run a fever, which worried Calleigh a bit.

"He's got a fever," she muttered at no one in particular.

Horatio's pulse jumped at the sound of her voice.

"He can hear me," she said with delight.  It was the first time in hours that she felt good.

"Horatio, it's Calleigh," she looked deep into his calm face.  "I told you I'd be here when you got back.  I'll be here as long as they let me.  Everything is going to be okay now," she breathed a sigh of relief.

Softly she stroked his face and stopped to trace her finger around his ear.  She brushed his hair back and gently kissed his forehead, "Everything's fine now."

The nurse took her elbow, "Dear, he needs lots of rest…"

"Horatio," she began, "I've got your stuff.  I borrowed some change for coffee for Eric…Eric is here too.  Tim is at the lab.  I kinda made work for Alexx, too."

The nurse touched her again.

"Anyhow, I've got to go now.  It's going to be okay," she finished by leaning over to kiss his flushed cheek.  "I'll come back later when they let me.  God answered our prayers.  You're going to be okay."

Quietly Calleigh slipped out, returning to the nurses' desk.  She picked up her stained shooting jacket as she placed the smock and mask into the dirty laundry bin.

"_Oh no, she's seen the photo,_" thought Horatio.  "_I wonder what she thinks.  At least she didn't hammer me for it.  But then, Calleigh is kind hearted and would not want me to worry.  Fat chance!  I'm worried already.  Come back, Calleigh.  We need to talk!_"


	5. Ch 5

Disclaimer:  This is solely for the enjoyment of the readership.  There is no intent to infringe on characters owned by CBS.

Rating:  PG

Sharpshooter – 5

Eric drove Calleigh back to the Lab where she retrieved her car and began to pull things together.  It was early afternoon.

"My cell?" she asked Tim.

Speed looked up from his duties and nodded, "Over here."

He produced a small paper sack with personal items he'd brought back from the scene.  Calleigh dumped the contents on the desk and sorted through them.  As she sorted, she carefully touched each item belonging to Horatio.

"So how's 'H'?" Tim waited a moment for her to collect her thoughts.

"I'm hopeful.  I think he'll be okay," she tried putting a chipper sound in her voice.

Tim continued to look at her.

Hesitantly he began, "You got any idea how many rounds you fired off out there?"

"Tim, we shouldn't go there.  You know I've got a shooting review board to go to," Calleigh started then changed subjects slightly, "Where'd you leave the weapons?"

"Why?"

"What I shoot; I clean.  Besides, I need something to do that's not going to require me to think much.  I'm just exhausted," she finished.

"After I ran the ballistics, I left them all with Chester at the Armory – pistols and rifles.  I'm sorry I did not have time to clean them myself, but…" he paused and motioned to the piles scattered on tables around him.

She nodded, "Eric's got the fragments they pulled out of Horatio.  If he needs me, you know where I'll be," she concluded before leaving.

Chester was waiting for her when she arrived at his desk, "Ready to scrub?"

Calleigh smiled, "Sure Chester.  Just point me to the vats."

"God I love a woman who knows how to clean," he teased.  "You wanna do dinner tonight, beautiful?"

"As long as you do the dishes, handsome," she teased back.

"Well that leaves me out I guess," he smiled.  "My wife expects me to do the dishes when I get home.  Two sets are one set too many," he laughed.

Calleigh laughed along as the buzzer gave her admission to the back room.

Chester joined her with the weapons and tools, "Sorry, we still don't have extra small gloves.  But I did manage to get a small pair.  Hope those work," he said as he laid it all out on the table in front of the vats of solvent.

"Thanks, Chester.  I'll be done in a few hours.  How late you gonna be here?"

"As long as you need," he paused.  "How's the Lieutenant?"

"Oh, I think he'll be okay.  They have chased me out of his room I don't know how many times already.  Anyhow, it was enough chasing for one day," she remarked.

Chester turned to leave her alone.

Calleigh turned back toward him, "Chester, can you make sure nobody disturbs me back here.  I need some down time, you know."

"You got it Detective," he offered with a genuine smile, "You are my favourite."

"That's only because I know how to clean a weapon properly," she reposted with a gentle giggle.

In the space of half an hour, all the weapons were broken down, barrels soaking in the tank of solvent.  Carefully and methodically, Calleigh moved from one firing pin to the next then to the receivers and so forth until each component piece had been inspected and cleaned.

She removed the barrels and ran the brush and patches through them until there was not the slightest bit of residue remaining inside or outside.  In another half hour, Calleigh had reassembled the four weapons.

"Chester," she started, "Those rifles were in terrible shape.  I know that we only put at the most, two clips through them.  They looked like they hadn't been cleaned in ages.  You might want to check the records for the last three shooters.  They need lessons on maintenance."

"Well why do you think I gave them to you?" he joked.  "But seriously, I will go back through and see.  Thanks for the head's up."

She handed him Horatio's sidearm as she replaced hers in the holster on her hip.

"I'm sorry Detective, but I need you to leave your weapon here, too," Chester was chagrinned.

Calleigh nodded and relinquished it to the Armory.  She concluded by signing all the appropriate documentation and left.

She got in her car and leaned back against the headrest.  Calleigh closed her eyes for a few moments.  All she could see in front of her was the shootout and Horatio being shot.  It played over and over again like a "B" movie.  After taking one long controlled breath she headed back to work even though it was nearly six in the evening on Thursday.

She was greeting by Internal Affairs and their paperwork.  The Shooting Review Board was scheduled for the beginning of next week.  She had the weekend to get ready.  She also had the weekend to see Horatio and ask him about that picture and what it meant.  Part of her was afraid to ask; part of her hoped that she might be more than family.

Nearly as soon as she dropped her car keys in the fish bowl by the door, the phone rang.  It was Hagen.

"Yes, John," she began as she peeled out of clothes that seemed glued to her body with sweat.

"You okay?  I went looking for you, but nobody knew where you were," he asked.

"I went with Horatio to the hospital.  They flew him from the scene in a chopper.  It was a miserable ride; I really hate flying," she answered even though the last thing she wanted to do was talk about it.

"I know that.  But why didn't you call me?  I can be over in less than half an hour," he persisted.

"No thanks.  I just want to climb in to the tub and relax.  It's kind of you to offer," she replied in her gracious way.

"I just thought you might need me," he went on.

"I'm okay, really," Calleigh paused, "I need some time alone.  Okay?"

The conversation was at an end.  Foxy, her Siamese was calling to her.  Gently, she picked up the old cat and hugged her close on her shoulder.  For a little while, she just listened to the soothing sounds of the cat purring before putting Foxy back onto the couch.  Calleigh headed off to the tub as Foxy jogged after her.  All she could think about was hot water and lots of bubbles.


	6. Ch 6

Disclaimer:  This is solely for the enjoyment of the readership.  There is no intent to infringe on characters owned by CBS.

Rating:  PG

Sharpshooter – 6

As she had anticipated Calleigh got very little sleep that night.  There were whirls and swirls of things playing with her mind all night long.  And it was a very long night indeed.  Even Foxy refused to stay in the bed with this person who would not lie still.  The only thing that gave her any rest was her sixth sense that Horatio would be okay.  When she got to work, she was turned right back around and sent home to prepare for the board.  There was no lab work for her to do that would not be compromised by her current situation.  That was even more frustrating for the consummate profession that Calleigh Duquesne was.

Horatio had an easy night in comparison.  At times he slept; at other times he tried with all his might to open his eyes.  He wanted to know that he was still alive, and seeing was somehow believing.  He was first aware of his life returning to some semblance of normal when they pulled the tube out of his throat.  He gagged and drew in an extra deep breath of air.  The next item of business was getting rid of the headache and chills.

Without work to occupy her time, Calleigh decided to see if she could slip in and see how Horatio was doing.  It certainly beat sitting around at her apartment all day.  She already had her plan for the board – just tell the truth.  There was no question in her mind.  The volunteer at the information counter informed her that Mr. Caine was in the Intensive Care Unit on the third floor.  However, it was too early for visiting hours to begin.  Nevertheless, she made her way to the unit.

Horatio was beginning to awaken and make his presence known to the staff.  It wasn't that he intended to be a difficult patient; it was only that he wasn't a very good one either.  Something inside him wanted to get up and get gone.  The staff obviously had other ideas.  His thrashing around was causing them to call for his attending physician.  Dr. Garza got there just about the same time Calleigh did.

"You were Horatio's surgeon, last night, right?" Calleigh asked first.

"Yeah, I hear he's giving my staff a hard way to go, which is why I'm here.  You want to see if you can get him to settle down?" Garza inquired.  "I noticed you seemed to have a soothing effect on him in Recovery."

"I'm game, if you are," Calleigh was quite pleased with the turn of events.

Dr. Garza added, "I'm willing to break the rules for my patient's well being.  Nothing like the feminine touch."

They stopped first at the nurses' station for Dr. Garza to pull Horatio's chart.  He scanned the top three pages before handing it back to the record's clerk.  He then led the way to Horatio's cubicle.  They could hear the nurse cautioning Horatio about moving too fast, dislodging tubes, making his stay longer, etc.  Dr. Garza drew back the curtain partway and found the nurse trying to empty the urine bag.

"So, Lieutenant, you've been giving my staff a hard time, have you?" he growled.  "With one shot I can fix that, or…I can let you have some company.  The choice is yours."

With that, he brought Calleigh into the space.  Horatio's monitor registered it the moment his out-of-focus eyes found her at the foot of his bed.  Desperately, he reached out his good hand.

"Calleigh," his voice was raspy from the tube and trauma of the last twenty-four hours.

"Easy there," she moved closer and took his hand.  "You've got to lay still or you're going to rip out your stitches.  I couldn't bear that.  I've already seen you bleed once; I'm of no mind to see that again.  Understand?"

Horatio thought he saw pools of tears welling up in her eyes at the thought of yesterday's shoot out.  He nodded quietly, not wishing to stir up her hurt.  As they grew closer, the nurse returned with a small chair for Calleigh to sit in.  Dr. Garza told them so long as the patient behaved himself appropriately, listened to the nursing staff, and did what he was told, the lady could stay.  They both smiled in relief.  Certain now that his patient was under control, Dr. Garza returned to make some notes in the chart before seeing his next patient.  The nurse pulled the curtain back around to give the smallest amount of privacy to Horatio.

Horatio closed his eyes for a moment and savoured the touch of Calleigh's delicate hand in his.  For her part, she scooted the chair just as close as the railing would permit her to move.  It was close enough for her to stroke his face and smooth his hair back into place.

Opening his eyes once again to behold her, "Calleigh," he whispered, "I'm so glad you're here."

"Shhh, Horatio.  You need your rest.  I'll be here for as long as you need or want me," she cradled his mind with her soft words.  "Why not take a nap?"

He breathed deeply and watched her a few minutes more before sleep did indeed overtake him.  Once he was asleep, Calleigh's eyes grew exceedingly heavy, too.  She found a way to rest her head on his bed at the same time she kept hold of his hand.  She was not about to let go.  The picture was beginning to make more sense.  She was family and more besides.  Calleigh felt something for Horatio that had only been lurking deep inside.  She had always reverently admired the man.  She'd felt the sting of pain every time someone besmirched his beloved brother's name.  Now, however, she had a sense that their relationship was at a turning point.  If he needed her, she needed him, too.  Her dreams were telling that to her nearly every chance they got.  Up until this moment, that had disturbed the professional side of her character while teasing the hell out of the feminine side.  It was late morning when Calleigh awoke to the hourly vitals being taken on Horatio.

"I'm sorry, Honey," a different nurse said softly, "I didn't mean to disturb you.  You looked so peaceful there."  She gently rubbed Calleigh's back.

Calleigh smiled at the nurse before looking at Horatio as he slept.  "Thanks, but I'm okay.  It was a bit of a rough night last night."

The nurse nodded approvingly, "I know, Honey," she paused.  "He's going to be okay.  You'll see.  His vitals have been steadily improving all morning, since you got here.  His fever is down.  His pulse is rock steady.  You're good medicine for him."

Calleigh was pleased and smiled shyly as the nurse retreated.

"You are good medicine," Horatio added, eyes shut.  Carefully, he opened them to find that Calleigh was still there at his bedside, watching over him.

"I love you, Calleigh," he said softly.

"That's the pain killer talking," she teased.

"No, it's not.  It's the real me.  Look in my wallet.  I have kept a photo there of you for some time now," he went on.

"I was wondering about that.  I'm sorry I found it last night.  I was being nosey," she admitted.  "Oh and I forgot it.  It's sitting on my bureau at home.  I'm sorry…" she confessed.

Horatio smiled, "And you're not mad at me?"

"Oh, Dear Lord, no.  Why would I be mad at you?" Calleigh responded quickly.

Horatio looked deep into her eyes as best his would focus, "I just thought that you and Hagen…"

Calleigh laughed, "I'm sorry.  John and me?  Now there's a good one.  Not in this lifetime would I be the slightest bit interested in John."

She realized how harsh that sounded, "It's not that I don't like John.  He's a fine man, very protective.  Well, a little too protective at times.  But that's just him.  He's just not my type, that's all.  John is like having a big brother around – all the time," she giggled a little.

"What about me?" Horatio needed to know.

"I don't know exactly.  I do know that I care deeply for you, even more now than before," Calleigh started.  "I'm thinking I'd like to explore those feelings with you when you're up to it."

Horatio held her hand, "I'd like to start right now, if you don't mind."

With that he tugged her closer.  She did not resist him, but instead leaned closer to kiss his brow, his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his lips.  He gave a quiet moan of delight as he held her as close as the bedrail allowed.

"This has got to go," he muttered pointing at the railing as the nurse returned with his lunch.

"Not until you get him home," she smiled at them.  "You hungry yet, Lieutenant?"

Horatio blinked and thought.  Indeed he was hungry.  The nurse placed a clear liquid tray down in front of him.

"Honey, you want to do the honors for your man?" she directed Calleigh's way.  "I've got two other patients who need feeding."

"Sure I can do that," she unwrapped the Jello.  "Let's see, looks like you've got some red Jello, green juice, and…"

"Ick.  Can you get me a sandwich from downstairs?" Horatio replied.

"Nope.  No can do," Calleigh stated matter-of-factly.  "This is what the doctor ordered; this is what the patient eats.  No if's, and's, or but's."

"You're a hard woman, Calleigh," Horatio began to tease, "But I love you dearly anyway."

By Sunday noon, Horatio was in a semi-private room on the Eleventh Floor.  He lucked out; the other bed was empty.  Dr. Garza had upgraded his meal options to just below "regular."  If he continued to progress, he'd get a "regular" tray that night.  By mid-afternoon, not only was Calleigh in the room, but so were Speed, Eric, Alexx, and Adele.  Yelena had promised to bring Ray Jr. over later in the afternoon, too after everyone else had gone.  Horatio was feeling pretty good until Eric let it slip that Calleigh's Shooting Review Board was Monday at eleven.

While Calleigh seemed not too worried about it all, Horatio was beating himself up inside.  Why had no one told him?  He should be there to support her.  Before she left for the night, Horatio made Calleigh promise that she'd come and tell him how it went but not before it was over.  He wanted her focused on getting past this event.  No distractions – not even the pleasant ones.  She condescended to his request, albeit reluctantly.


	7. Ch 7 final chapter

Disclaimer:  This is solely for the enjoyment of the readership.  There is no intent to infringe on characters owned by CBS.

Rating:  PG

Sharpshooter – 7

Calleigh's alarm rang at the usual 5:30 a.m.  She groaned and reached for its snooze button.  Just a few more moments of sleep...  Foxy stood up on the bed, stretched and yawned, then curled back up for a catnap of her own.  Again the alarm prodded Calleigh.  She slipped out from under the blanket and staggered toward the toothbrush and shower.  By six, she had pulled her hair back into a ponytail and was looking through her closet.  Foxy remained asleep on the bed.  Calleigh selected her white suit and tan top to wear.  Confidently, she put the empty holster back on her belt next to her Miami-Dade PD badge.  This would be over soon, and she'd be back at work where she belonged, that is after she ran by Jackson to tell Horatio that all was back to normal.

The Shooting Review Board consisted of the Deputy Chief of Police, the Operations Battalion Commander, Horatio's boss, and representatives from both the Mayor's office and country administration.  After riots, it was decided to put some civilians on the board to provide yet another safe guard for the public.

She sat outside the conference room bolt upright, waiting her turn to tell what had happened.  Alexx had gone first.  Eric had just presented his testimony on the bullets that had been recovered.  Tim was in telling the members about the scene and more analysis.  Calleigh was to follow Tim.  She was hoping things would be wrapped up by lunchtime so she could eat at the hospital with Horatio and then get back to work.  She began to tap her fingers on the file folder in her lap when Tim came out.  He gave her a little hug for luck just as Alexx and Eric had done in sequence before this.  Calleigh heard her name called.

She rose and headed into the large, paneled room.  The high ceilings gave the room an even more impressive tone.  The seating was arranged in such a way as to make the whole proceedings feel adversarial rather than investigative.  Calleigh had been involved in an officer shooting in New Orleans in which she had killed a man.  The perp had been involved in five rapes in the city in the period of two weeks.  He had charged her with a knife.  As it turned out, that was the same knife he'd used to "decorate" his victims.  In fact, she was cited for valor.  She was exonerated during the process.  It was a justified shooting.  Calleigh had not been through one here in Miami.  This was quite a different scene, and now she began to feel apprehensive for the first time.  Horatio had been through boards before, and she wished he were here now.

She was sworn in and seated across from the Mayor's representative.  Mrs. Judson just glowered at Calleigh.  That made Calleigh feel even more uncomfortable.  She wondered if it was supposed to be that way.  Did they put one person up to it?  Was this a head game or the real thing?  She could not be sure.

The Deputy began, "Detective, can you tell us in your own words what occurred last Thursday at approximately ten in the morning?"

"Certainly sir," she began.  "Lieutenant Caine, my supervisor and I were scheduled for rifle quals out on the range.  We picked up the required gear and drove toward the range at Homestead Air Force Base.  We turned off Dixie Highway onto 134th Street and were going through a rundown neighborhood when we heard a shooting in progress.  The Lieutenant placed the call for back-up, gave them the standard warning, and they began to fire on him."

"Go on," Mrs. Judson sounded demanding.

"I saw upwards of a dozen heavily armed men exchanging fire with one another.  I think we had stumbled on either an armed robbery, gang shoot out, or a drug deal gone bad."

"I live down there.  It's a nice neighborhood.  Why would you say that," now Mrs. Judson was even more demanding.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am.  I truly am.  I referred to it as rundown because of all the graffiti and out of work men loitering on the corners," Calleigh offered.

"Continue, Detective," commanded the Deputy Chief.

"I feared for both my partner's life and my life.  So I took out the rifles and loaded them.  I felt it was our only option given the machine gun fire that we drew," Calleigh started again.

"And she was absolutely correct in her assessment, too," a raspy voice spoke up from the back of the room.

Horatio, left arm in a sling, stood at the open doors.  He walked slowly forward and sat down next to Calleigh at the table.  She could hear his labored breathing.  Calleigh was sure that he was not here under doctor's supervision.  What she had not figured out was how he managed it.

"If you are going to grill my partner, then you grill me at the same time," he said with an air of authority.

"Only correction I'd offer is that there were a dozen and half of them.  There was another group in the store front," Horatio continued.  "Detective Duquesne acted within her scope of duty."

"Then explain how seven citizens, my constituents, are in the morgue?" demanded Mrs. Judson.

"They fired on us, ma'am.  Detective Duquesne was simply protecting herself and me.  By the time she took the first shot at them, I was already on the ground.  Her actions saved my life then and later when she applied first aid," he continued.  He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope.  "Here is an affidavit from the surgeon and emergency room physician stating such."

Calleigh was in awe.

"So you are saying that this was a justified shooting?" Mrs. Judson wanted to know.

"In my best judgment, yes, it was.  There were no alternatives.  Either we got involved or the shooters would have slaughtered civilian bystanders.  There were at least eight women and children out on the street when it went down," Horatio narrated.

Horatio went on the offensive, "May I ask if any bystanders were injured as a result of Detective Duquesne's actions?  No, there were only men with guns who ended up in the morgue.  And that was only because they continued to fire on us."

"I stopped firing the moment they surrendered their weapons," Calleigh picked up the story.

"Why did you shoot off their faces?"  Mrs. Judson demanded.  "I call that criminal!"

"They were wearing body armor, and I was firing standard training rounds not sniper ammunition.  The last thing I had on my mind that morning was taking someone's life.  Now I'm reminded every day that I killed four men.  That's the part of this job that is absolutely the worst," Calleigh came back.  "But they left me no choice."

Her statement rang through the room…"they left me no choice."

The Deputy dismissed them but not before counseling Horatio not to ever break in on another inquiry.  He'd announce their findings by tomorrow.  Calleigh and Horatio just looked at one another.  It was over almost as quickly as it had begun.

On the way out, Horatio indicated, "I'd say things are going to go your way.  Your last comment pretty well summed up the whole incident.  Well done, Calleigh, well done."

They headed down the corridor for the elevator, and ultimately toward the door.

"Why thank you, sir," she began, "Now you want to tell me how you got here.  I have your wallet, remember.  And I distinctly remember that you also had no clothes at the hospital either.  Does Dr. Garza know you're here?"

"Nope, only you and Alexx," he said as he took her hand gently.  "When I heard who was going to sit on the board, I knew I had to get here come hell or high water.  I was not about to let that woman hang you out to dry."

Alexx came around the corner out of the shadows near the elevator and spoke to Horatio, "Honey, we've got to get you back to the hospital before they come looking for you and then for me."

The elevator was empty when the three got on.

Calleigh just looked at the two conspirators with deep affection, "You two are the best friends a body would want for!"

Alexx turned aside as Horatio took Calleigh into his arms, "I hope I am more than just a friend," as he kissed her with all the desire a sick man could muster.


End file.
